


Little Toy Soldier

by Choke-a-Bro (Vanya_Deyja)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, M/M, MT, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-03-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:28:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22937122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanya_Deyja/pseuds/Choke-a-Bro
Summary: Ignis is bandaging Gladio after a recent scuffle when Noctis finds a stray MT. There shouldn't be any debate about what to do with it and yet...
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 31
Kudos: 308





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I started working on this in December but I finally finished it! I have defeated the fic! Please enjoy, second chapter has smut and it'll be up in about 2-3 days.

They’re exhausted. Ignis is applying a few bandages to Gladio while Noctis surveys the forest around their Haven. Ignis keeps one eye on their Prince, always cautious, but Noctis is mostly fine just a little roughed up. Ignis watches Noctis take a few steps down the slope but doesn’t think much of it until he hears Noctis open his mouth;

“You wanna go too little guy?”

Ignis straightens, Gladio reaches for his sword—

Noctis makes a funny sound and lurching his retainers are on their feet, ready to fly into action, crossing the gap between them.

Ignis is the first one to make it to the Prince but it takes him a second to compute what’s happening. Noctis is seemingly unharmed but there’s an MT, unarmed and unarmoured, kneeling at his feet. Noctis has his engine blade drawn but the MT has it’s smooth, green, face buried in his boots.

Noctis glances to Ignis and they share a moment of mutual confusion.

“Never seen one grovel before,” Gladio grunts. “Kick it back, Princess. We’ll cut the ugly head off.”

“But…” Noctis wavers. “It’s not trying to fight…”

“It’s a fucking MT, Noct.” Gladio grumbles.

Noctis reaches down, fingertips tracing the line of the creature’s back. It’s in a fairly scrappy uniform and, for a green monstrosity, it’s definitely on the small side. 

Ignis tries to grab Noctis’ wrist but the Prince swats him away curtly and presses his palm, just a solid nonthreatening weight, between the MT’s shoulder blades. The MT makes a strange sound, like garbled tech, and its clawed fingers seem to curl delicately around the ankles of Noctis’ booted feet.

“It’s obviously broken, Noct.” Ignis tries to reason.

“Well, whatever it is,” Noctis stands back, “we’re not killing it.”

“You can’t be serious,” Gladio scowls. “What if it gives away our location?”

“It’s defenceless,” Noctis puffs up. “I’m not killing it in cold blood.”

The MT lifts its head cautiously, red featureless eyes blinking up at Noctis like little traffic lights. Noctis seems a little put off but doesn’t flinch away. He puts his hand on the creature’s bald head and the cursed eyes close. Ignis knows human beings are very good at reading emotions into inhuman things but he could’ve sworn that was a look of gratitude.

“Come back to the Haven, Noct.” Ignis pleads. “If you’re not going to put it down at least walk away.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Noctis consents, easing his hand away and stepping back.

The MT opens its eyes again, slowly blinking, and as Gladio tries to tug Noctis back to the Haven the MT finds its feet to follow them. Ignis frowns. It is very short for an MT, perhaps defective?

They enter back into the glow of the Haven and the MT has to stop at the perimeter seemingly much to its own surprise. The daemon scourge inside the creature will keep it from stepping on sanctified ground like them. It doesn’t become upset however and it doesn’t continue to push at the perimeter stupidly. It pauses, watches them sit back down, and follows suit by sinking cross legged onto the grass.

“Do you think it’s broken?” Noctis wonders.

“I suspect so,” Ignis sighs, returning to the task of bandaging Gladio.

Gladio has his hand on Noctis’ knee and refuses to lift the weight. Ignis knows such a minor inconvenience couldn’t stop their wayward Prince if he set his mind to escaping but it’s a psychological thing. Noctis is like a puppy sometimes, too curious for his own good and his retainers have to keep him tethered.

The MT is still sitting there, waiting almost hopefully, when they fall asleep.

When Ignis rouses in the morning to make breakfast he sort of hopes a daemon has taken the ugly thing in the night but, sure enough, it’s still sitting there. Its big red eyes follow Ignis as he busies himself but Ignis is determined to ignore him.

Gladio is next to rise.

“Should I just get rid of it?” Gladio murmurs.

“Noctis didn’t want to kill it,” Ignis sighs, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“What Princess doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Gladio shrugs.

Ignis can see the benefits of such a scheme but, sighing, shakes his head. Noctis might never know but Ignis isn’t sure he could live with himself if he betrayed an order so brazenly.

Noctis meets the world last and scratching his side makes a beeline for the edge of the slope.

“Still here, little guy?” He greets the MT, somewhere between curious and amused.

“Just leave it, Noct.” Ignis appeals.

“Do you think they eat Iggy?” Noctis asks instead.

“We’re not—” Gladio grouses.

“They have batteries, I believe,” Ignis answers instead.

Noctis must walk a little more down the slope because Gladio rises out of his seat to stalk up behind the Prince protectively.

“What’re you waiting for? Huh?” Noctis supposes.

“Probably an occasion to follow its programming and hand you over to the Imperials.” Ignis reminds.

“I don’t think so,” Noctis argues. “This one’s weird, Iggy.”

“Broken,” Ignis insists a second time.

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” Noctis shrugs coyly, glancing back at his retainers.

“Whatever you’re putting together in that little head,” Gladio grunts from the edge of the slope, “you better stop it right now, Princess.”

There’s a pause and Ignis hopes that the end of it. But no sooner has Ignis glanced back down to the eggs than Gladio is hollering at Noctis. Ignis whips back around in time to watch Noctis exit the sacred ground of the Haven onto the grass.

The MT is still sitting, cross legged, and it doesn’t lurch when Noctis steps out. It just sits there, watching. Noctis strides closer, fearless, and puts his hand on the silly thing’s head. The MT’s eyes close again, shoulders visibly softening, and the MT slumps forward a little to nose his face against Noctis’ stomach. Ignis is not pleased. Gladio is not pleased. But Noctis pats the bloody thing like its another stray cat in Lestallum.

“Can you talk?” Noctis wonders.

The MT raises it head. Its lips move but something inside it is not cooperating because it can only manage a series of garbled trills. It is absolutely not human. It has never been human and it will never be human. Ignis knows that, Gladio knows that, but Noctis…

“Guess not…” Noctis hums, patting the smooth green head.

The MT falls quiet and sagging slumps its face back against Noctis’ stomach.

* * *

Ignis is able to tempt Noctis back to the Haven for breakfast but as they pack their equipment into the armiger and start heading back to the Regalia the MT follows a few paces behind.

“I think it should come with us.” Noctis drops the bombshell.

“Absolutely not.” Ignis refuses to entertain the idea.

“Something’s weird about this one.” Noctis maintains.

“That does not make it our problem.” Ignis puts his foot down, pausing in their progress to the car. “We are not taking an imperial trooper in the Regalia. I don’t care if it’s fascinatingly defective.”

“What if its _defected_?” Noctis counters.

“MTs are not people.” Gladio folds his massive arms. “They don’t just decide to switch sides. They don’t decide anything. They’re machines.”

“They’re tech implants and daemon plasmodium grafted onto a _human_ body.” Noctis maintains stubbornly.

“Noctis, this is not another stray. This is a dangerous weapon grown in a laboratory to hurt you.” Ignis snaps.

“I get that,” Noctis huffs.

“But?” Ignis invites, hand on his hip.

“I just…” Noctis runs a hand through his hair. “I know it sounds stupid but it feels different. It feels like this one’s got a soul.”

“I very much doubt—”

“I’m the one with magic!” Noctis puffs up. “Doesn’t my opinion on what does and doesn’t have a soul get a little sway? I—I can _sense_ something, Specs.”

“And I can predict a whole lot of fucking trouble,” Gladio grunts. “Maybe you’re not totally wrong, Noct, but this isn’t our problem.”

“I know but—”

Noctis doesn’t get a chance to continue as something comes crashing through the underbrush and tackles into Gladio. They cry out, weapons are drawn—

It’s a daemon but with the sun almost all the way up it clearly writhing and dying looking desperately for a place to hide from the sunlight that’s scorching its bumpy, porous, skin. It’s burning as it tries to rip at Gladio. Noctis and Ignis descend on it, trying to yank it off the Shield but its thrashing so hard and they don’t want to skewer Gladio too.

Ignis almost gets a good hit in when the daemon’s tail whips about and throws him back.

He slams into a tree, winded and dizzy. His head is still spinning when, all of a sudden, the MT is there offering a hand to help Ignis up.

Ignis blinks, confused, but takes it.

The MT pulls him up and Ignis pushes past it to charge back into the conflict.

Noctis manages to rip the daemon off Gladio and in one quick motion Ignis drives his lance into the creature’s soft underbelly splattering its guts.

The daemon sprawls back, spluttering and popping as the sun burns it, and as the last raspy breath goes out of it the corpse flexes.

Ignis pants, getting his bearings.

“Gladio!” Noctis descends, helping the Shield sit up.

Ignis quickly joins the fray. Gladio’s pretty badly scratched up but the biggest problem—

“It fucking bit me,” Gladio hisses, clutching his forearm to his chest.

“Let me see.” Ignis orders, grabbing his wrist.

The wound already looks blackened and sickly.

“Starscourge,” he appraises. “Noct—”

“On it.” Noctis swoops in, grasping Gladio’s forearm

Noctis is no Oracle but like Lady Lunefreya his light can drive out the Scourge. He squeezes Gladio’s arm in between his hands and as light starts to seep into the Shield’s veins the Starscourge sizzles up like pus in a wound and simmers off. Gladio hisses, teeth clenched, but slumps back no worse for wear.

The wound isn’t healed but its clean now.

Ignis fishes for a potion and pressing it into Gladio’s hand helps him crush the vial to feel the surging effects of the curative. Gladio inhales, puffing up, and as his skin knits back together Ignis lets himself breathe again.

The three of them stand there, a little breathless, and try to remember what they were even fighting about when the MT steps close to Noctis.

Ignis’ watches cautiously, honestly a little conflicted now, as the MT reaches very gently for Noctis’ hand.

Noctis lets the trooper take his hand and watches as the MT presses Noctis’ palm against his chest.

Gladio frowns.

Ignis sits back, head tilting. Does it…?

“I don’t understand…?” Noctis tells the little thing kindly.

The MT presses the Prince’s hand firmly against it’s chest with two of its own clawed appendages. Like it’s pleading. A soft, whirring, trill even escapes it.

“I think…” Ignis is baffled. “I think it wants you to purify it…?”

“Is that…?” Noctis’ head jerks from Ignis to the MT. “Is that want you want? Like I did with Gladio?” He gestures.

The MT trills louder.

“I…” Noctis snorts, bemused. “I don’t know if that’ll work, little guy.”

The MT squeezes Noctis’ hand, pressing desperately.

“Iggy, do you think…?”

“Well…” Ignis sighs. “I don’t suppose it could hurt to try?”

Gladio glances at Ignis, almost accusatory, and Ignis shrugs.

“Okay, okay,” Noctis turns to the green trooper and presses both hands against it’s chest. It holds Noctis’ hands against itself expectantly, hopefully.

Noctis takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and unleashes a softly building surge of magic through the MT. MTs are implanted with Starscourge early in their life cycle. It’s part of them. Who’s to say they can even survive a purification? Ignis watches, worried, but Noctis slowly, steadily, starts to heal every contaminated cell in the MT’s body.

The MT sinks to its knees, shaky, but Noctis follows it down and maintains his grip. He’s not done. It takes a few moments, light shining off the green skin, and eventually Ignis has to look away lest he be blinded. Gladio throws a hand up, trying to keep eyes on Noctis through his fingers, but even he has to wince his eyes shut at some point.

The light begins to fade, drawing back into Noctis, and turning back about Ignis watches it dissipate with interest.

The MT is still there, sitting in the grass, but is it alive?

The little thing lifts its head and were it not for the tattered imperial uniform Ignis wouldn’t even recognise the cre— _person_ in front of him. He’s small and he’s lost some muscle mass without the Scourge to bulk him up. His build is, surprisingly, even more delicate than Noctis’ slender frame. Ignis isn’t sure how the purification managed it exactly but his pale skin is now creamy and delightfully freckle speckled. His bald, green, head is covered with fluffy yellow-blonde hair and blinking dazedly at Noctis the MT reveals two pretty eggshell blue eyes to the world.

“Fuck…” Gladio wheezes.

Noctis leans a little closer, reaching out to grab the MT’s shoulder gently, and those lovely blue eyes focus on the Prince. As they settle the biggest, brightest, dopiest grin Ignis has ever seen blossoms on the MT’s little face and Noctis laughs delightedly.

“Hi,” Noctis greets.

“Hee—” The MT massages it throat for a second, working its jaw like something’s come loose. Then, experimentally; “H-hello…?”

Noctis laughs, beaming.

“Better?” The Prince supposes.

The MT nods keenly, blonde locks bouncing.

Fuck, he’s _precious_.

Ignis coughs, trying to contain himself. He has to think logically.

“Let’s get you to the car, buddy,” Noctis invites. “Up, yeah?”

The MT reaches for Noctis tentatively and Noctis doesn’t hesitate to take his clawless new hands and help haul him up onto his uncertain baby-deer legs. Noctis secures an arm around his middle, holding him steady, and directs;

“Okay, off we go.” He leads.

The MT fumbles, finding itself, but he leans into Noctis with the utmost trust and furtive little glances that speak of an all too infectious adoration.

Great, Noctis has amassed another devoted follower.

Ignis sighs and, pushing up, helps Gladio to his feet.

“Guess he’s coming with us,” Gladio exhales bemusedly.

“I don’t think we can leave him behind now,” Ignis admits.

“Yeah, fair point…”

* * *

Noctis helps the MT to join him in the backseat of the Regalia. There’s a brief discussion about their next pit stop and then Ignis is driving. He’s a little too mystified to do much else.

Ignis glances to the back seat periodically. The MT seems to be seeing the whole world for the first time and Ignis wonders how different things look when you’re pumped full of Scourge and mangled by implants? Eventually those pretty new eyelids start to droop and, soon enough, the MT lulls asleep for what might the first time in its whole life. It’s head lulling on Noctis’ shoulder with the most contented smile Ignis has ever seen.

They’ll never get this kid off Noctis after this.

Noctis lets the MT sag into him and Ignis sees no point arguing at this stage.

It takes a few hours of back roads driving but, in the early afternoon, they pull up to Wiz’s Chocobo Outpost.

The soft lurch of the car into park stirs the MT and Noctis rouses it further with a murmur and a patting hand against his cheek. The MT lifts his head and blinks around curiously. Taking his hand Noctis helps him out of the car.

“We should get him something else to wear,” Gladio murmurs as he closes the front passenger door, “the uniform is suspicious.”

“I’ll go purchase something from the store.” Ignis assures. “Can you go pay for a night at—?”

Ignis is cut short when the MT makes a peculiar sound and yanks Noctis almost clean off his feet. Noctis yelps, catching himself and hauling the MT back at his side, and Gladio and Ignis take a second to unlock their hackles.

“What? _What?_ ” Noctis tries to understand.

“Thh…” The MT slurs around the word. “T-them!” He thrusts his hand out, pointing.

Ignis follows the line of his finger and Noctis burst out laughing.

“The chocobos?” Noctis laughs. “You wanna see the chocobos?”

The MT nods desperately.

“Okay, okay, one sec,” Noctis urges him to calm. “Iggy, can—?”

“Go,” Ignis dismisses patiently. “Gladio and I will sort arrangements for tonight.”

“Thanks,” Noctis smiles, lacing his fingers with the MT and leading him across the grass.

Ignis crosses the dirt towards the outpost store and starts his usual routine. He usually purchases the essentials, at least, and today he has to ascertain something proper for their little interloper to wear. He glances, periodically, to Noctis and the MT. He can’t help it. He always has one eye lingering on his precious Prince. Noctis is irreplaceable and, well, frankly the MT is pretty cute too.

The MT seems cautious once he gets close to the birds but, when Ignis next glances over, Noctis is showing the MT how to stroke the bird’s feathers gently. The MT looks tangibly _delighted_. It’s like he’s never, ever, been happy before.

Ignis wonders if maybe he hasn’t been?

Ignis pushes it down. He’s a softie at heart, devastatingly protective. Noctis has always been this tiny, precious, thing he has to look after and defend. That feeling is powerful. He adores Noctis. This little blonde hits at some of the same instinctual impulses however. Ignis wants to coddle him, dote on him…

“Looks like your mother hen sense is tingling,” Gladio grunts knowingly as he returns from purchasing them a night in the caravan.

“Unfortunately,” Ignis admits.

“I’m struggling to remember why we ever thought he was dangerous,” Gladio confesses with a sigh. “He’s pretty cute.”

“I just hope he remembers how to fight…” Ignis murmurs, glancing back to pay the store clerk.

Essentials purchased Ignis sets up a few things in the caravan while Gladio watches the boys. When Ignis comes back out very little has changed except Noctis and the MT have changed to dote on a different chocobo.

“Noct,” Ignis calls, “we should get cleaned up.”

“One sec!” Noctis dismisses.

It takes a little hassling but Noctis does eventually return to his dutiful retainers.

“Why don’t you and Gladio go use the showers first.” Ignis offers. “We’ll swap.”

“You sure?” Noctis hesitates. “I can shower with—”

“The showers are behind the house.” Ignis reminds. “I would rather you had one of us with you, just in case. He’ll be fine with me for a few minutes. Besides, I suspect I’ll have more luck helping him get cleaned off than you.”

“Yeah that’s true…” Noctis relents.

The MT sits at the plastic table outside the caravan, happily watching the world around him, but when Noctis comes back out of the caravan with his towel the blonde rises to follow him.

“Uh, uh,” Ignis grabs his shoulder gently. “Not yet.”

The MT blinks, confused, at Ignis.

“You stay here, buddy,” Noctis tells the MT. “I’m just gonna go get clean and then you and Iggy can have a turn.”

The MT frowns, working his jaw with his fingers and Noctis waits patiently while the MT gathers the syllables to slur out;

“You’ll c-come back?”

“Yeah! Promise!” Noctis assures. “I just have to shower.”

The MT relaxes somewhat, nodding his consent to this plan now he’s sure Noctis will return to him.

Still, the MT watches Gladio and Noctis disappear keenly and no sooner are they gone then he starts to slip into a subtle, fretful, pout.

Ignis can’t stand it.

“Hey,” Ignis squeezes the blonde’s shoulder, “would you like to help me?”

The MT blinks; “Help?” He slurs.

“Make food for everyone,” Ignis explains patiently. “It’ll make waiting go faster.”

The MT glances back in Noctis direction, thinking, and then returns to Ignis with a determined nod.

“Wonderful,” Ignis helps him up. Everything is obviously adjusting after the transformation so the MT is still a little unsteady but it’s fine.

Ignis helps him up the stairs in the caravan and once they’re at the kitchenette he starts laying out what of dinner’s ingredients he can prep now before he showers himself.

He doesn’t think it’s wise to give their newest crew-mate a knife yet so Ignis wraps his hands around the blonde’s and gently shows him how to peel potatoes.

“Away from you,” he reminds.

“Away,” the MT repeats.

They work happily for about half an hour before the MT spots Noctis through the caravan window and drops the peeler.

“N-Noct!” The MT declares.

Ignis isn’t quick enough to stop the blonde from darting out the caravan. He stumbles, still a little uncertain, but he makes it down the stairs and Noctis is quick to catch him in the next few steps. Noctis grins, letting the blonde wrap around him, and demonstrating that usually restrained strength the Prince hefts the MT up around the waist and spins them around.

Ignis snorts.

Gladio hangs back, still damp, and looks equally charmed by the boys.

Noctis has always been too pretty for his own good. Together with the MT he might reach hitherto untouched levels of cuteness. Ignis and Gladio will have to steel themselves.

Putting the prepped produce away Ignis follows the MT outside.

“Alright,” he chuckles. “Come on, it’s our turn to shower.”

The MT blinks as Noctis sets him down.

“Go on,” Noctis encourages. “Iggy can get you clean and then you can get into some new clothes. It’ll be way comfier than that scruffy uniform.”

The MT hesitates. He really is quite attached to Noctis.

“Make you a deal,” Noctis offers, “you go with Ignis to get clean and when you come back I’ll give you a special present.”

The MT tilts his head. “A present?” He manages, a little clearer this time. His voice box is slowly learning to cooperate. “Like what?” He presses.

“If I tell you it’ll ruin the surprise,” Noctis shrugs smugly.

The MT sags out of Noctis’ arms but nods, seeming to agree. Ignis, clean clothes and toiletries bag in hand, presses his free hand against the small of the blonde’s back.

“Ready?” He invites.

“Ready,” the MT promises, slurring; “I’ll be b-back Noct! Gladdy!”

Noctis grins but Gladio, for his part, colours subtly.

Ignis can’t contain his grin.

Ignis knows from experience that few people refer to their hulking, handsome, Shield as ‘ _Gladdy_ ’ on a regular basis. Honestly Gladio looks surprised the MT even knows his name let alone has assigned him a nickname.

Ignis nudges the MT along while Gladio coughs away his fluster.

Noctis looks far too amused.

* * *

The showers are in a little brick building behind Wiz’s house. There’s a water heater but its sporadic. Ignis knows they shouldn’t stay long lest the spray turn cold. He strips down, helping the MT with its awkward limbs, and adjusting the temperature scrubs himself quickly while the blonde adjusts to the shower. Once Ignis is clean he can help the MT properly.

“This is n-nice.” The MT says.

“I’m sure,” Ignis smiles patiently, rinsing his hair. “Have you ever had a proper shower?”

“No,” the MT pouts audibly. “Niffs use t-the hose when they need to clean units.”

“Well,” Ignis pulls him a little closer into the warmth. “Showers from now on. We certainly won’t ever hose you down.”

The MT smiles, just a little, looking like he wants to believe Ignis with all his heart.

“Here, let me help?” Ignis asks for permission as he pours some shower gel into his hand.

The MT is a little uncertain but nods. Ignis moves like a professional, sexless but thorough. When Noctis was in his wheelchair as a child he was very fussy about who attended him and Ignis got plenty of practice getting him clean without making things awkward or uncomfortable.

The MT seems to relax after a moment, murmuring; “you’re gentle, Iggy.”

Ignis feels his heart churn. Did the MT learn that silly nickname from Noctis? Ignis can’t bear to correct him even if it is a little childish.

“Thank you,” he answers, rinsing the soap off. “Shall we do your hair too?”

“Make it soft?” The MT looks hopeful.

“Very soft.” Ignis promises.

The MT grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Ignis pours a little shampoo and starts lathering the thick blonde hair.

“Your hair is a lovely colour,” he admits. “I knew MTs were grown in a laboratory but I confess I never asked myself what an unmodified one would look like. I wonder where they got your genetic material from?”

“Verstael Besithia, Research Minister, creator of Magitek and associated tech.” The MT replies in an uncomfortably practised tone but he doesn’t sound overly distressed. “All MTs are cloned from the Minister’s genetic material.”

Ignis thinks back to what he’s seen of Verstael Besithia and grunts; “well, all the same, I doubt he was ever as handsome as you are.”

The MT beams up at him.

“Yes, that’s what does it.” Ignis murmurs. “I’ve never seen that old batty Niff make such a wonderful smile.”

The MT looks like he wants to melt and Ignis can’t help his own grin.

Another rinse or two later and they’re drying off. The MT moves mostly by itself, albeit with a little direction and encouragement, but he dries up one way or another and then Ignis can start dressing them.

“Lucian black.” Ignis demonstrates, helping the MT pull the shirt down over his head. “If you’re going to switch sides; might as well dress like it.”

“Can I be a Lucian? Like you all?” The MT asks hopefully.

“Once we reclaim Noctis’ throne,” Ignis picks up his jacket, “I’ll sign your citizenship papers myself.”

The MT beams.

When they arrive back at the caravan Ignis moves inside to finish cooking dinner with the pre-prepped ingredients.

“Looking good blondie,” Gladio grunts, glancing up from his book.

“Thanks Gladdy!” The MT chirps.

There is another audible, embarrassed, cough from Gladio. He might never get used to that.

“You do look great,” Noctis assures, helping the MT sit down beside him. “Is talking and moving getting easier?”

“Some of my implants were s-short circuited by your magic.” The MT explains. “Others are adjusting. The code has to ac-accommodate the changes.”

“I’m sorry,” Noctis replies.

“It’s good!” The MT chirps. “I h-have control of me now. I can speak outside programmed pa-parameters. I was working on the code before I found you but it was very difficult. B-because you damaged some of it I can overpower it better.”

“Well that’s a good thing then,” Noctis nods.

“So you did defect?” Gladio supposes, putting his book down.

“I ran away.” The MT confirms.

“I’ve never heard of an MT doing that.” Gladio murmurs. “How’d you even…?”

“I have always been defective.” The MT answers. “I did not take my implants or serums well like t-the others. They were going to decommission me, but they needed more units for the invasion of Insomnia, and they didn’t have t-time to grow enough new ones.”

“You’re special,” Noctis reframes the account gently. “You’re different. In a good way. I don’t think a regular MT would survive if I purified it.”

“I am s-so happy.” The MT murmurs. “T-thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Noctis replies nonchalantly. He’s never good with such depths of sincerity. Noctis is a charitable person but he doesn’t know how to respond when people show gratitude even if he has changed their whole life through his actions.

“You said you’d give me a present,” the MT recovers playfully from Noctis’ casual response. Honestly the wisest response.

Ignis glances through the window, one eye on the food, curious to see what Noctis has whipped up.

“Well…” Noctis drawls. “I was thinking… Do you have a name?”

“I have a serial number,” the MT answers, “but its not as good.”

“Well we could give you a name?” Noctis offers. “Would that be okay…?”

“Yes!” The MT yelps excitedly. “Please? Yes? You all have nice names!”

Noctis laughs but seems pleased to be well received.

“I was looking up some possibilities on my phone,” he admits. “What kind of name do you want?”

“A Lucian name!” The MT announces.

Gladio chuckles at that.

“Okay, um…” Noctis scrolls through his phone. “What about…? Ugh, no, not Sonitus…”

“Definitely not Libertus either.” Gladio snorts knowingly.

“What about Prompto?” Noctis looks up from his phone hopefully. “We don’t know a Prompto yet. Prompto, Prom?”

“Prompto…” the MT rolls it over in his mouth, “I like it! Can I have a last name too? Normal people have last names.”

“Oh, yeah, right…” Noctis starts typing back in his phone.

“What about Argentum?” Gladio offers.

“Argentum?” Noctis tilts his head.

“They were a family, loyal to the Crown, but they died out a couple hundred years ago.” Gladio recounts his history. “They were known for their silversmithing.”

“That’s cool,” Noctis grins, “what do you think, Prom?”

“I like that too!” The MT nods.

“Cool,” Noctis tucks his phone away. “Nice to meet you, Prompto Argentum.”

The blonde, _Prompto_ , bounces in his chair.

“Dinner!” Ignis announces, coming out of the caravan with the platters and spreading them on the cheap plastic table. He pulls cutlery out of his pocket and very pointedly hands it out; “Highness.”

“Thanks!” Noctis chirps.

“Gladio.”

“Looks great, Iggy.”

“And _Prompto_ ,” Ignis grins.

“Thank you!” Prompto croons.


	2. Chapter 2

Ignis isn’t sure if Prompto is going to be able to eat at all and his motions are certainly unpractised, a little sloppy even, but his appetite is keen. After they clean up it's starting to get late so Ignis works on shuffling everyone into the warmth of the caravan.

“Where should I sleep, Iggy?” Prompto asks.

“With us!” Noctis announces. “But you’re gonna have to share so don’t hog the blankets.”

“Exactly,” Ignis agrees.

“How do you want to do this?” Gladio asks, slipping off his shoes.

“Why don’t we put the smaller bodies in the middle? Might keep them warmer.”

“Sounds safer too,” Gladio nods. “Can’t have Princess sneaking out in the middle of the night.”

“I don’t sneak out!” Noctis huffs, shrugging off his hoodie.

“You do if you think there’s a fishing spot nearby.” Gladio reminds, accusatory.

“That was _one time!_ ”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” Ignis hushes in a soft voice. “Save it for the morning.”

Noctis grumbles but Gladio throws an arm around his shoulders and tugs him towards the lumpy bed and Noctis surrenders into the touch. Gladio pulls the blankets back and Noctis crawls in and Ignis has to remind himself to nudge Prompto to join them.

Prompto climbs onto the end of the bed and up towards the pillows. With a little shuffling he joins Noctis under the blankets and the Prince pulls the former MT closer for a friendly snuggle that Prompto readily reciprocates.

Ignis folds up his glasses, stores them in the armiger and flips off the lights before groping his way into he bed. He catches a thin arm, reflexively starts to say something, but then he realises from the giggle that it’s Prompto and not his usual wiry Prince arm.

This will take some getting used to.

Settling down Ignis gropes in the dark for a moment. Gladio squeezes his hand across the smaller boys, a fond goodnight, and then he finds Noctis’ cheek. Noctis nestles down, tucked up, perfectly safe. Ignis is going to withdraw entirely but he brushes Prompto in passing and pauses, drawn by the cute flustered noise, to squeeze Prompto’s shoulder again.

“Night,” Ignis whispers into the back of the blonde’s fluffy, clean, hair.

“Night,” Prompto chirps.

Ignis counts breaths, resting laxly. As he sprawls he picks up on the regular sounds of the evening; the chocobos outside, the daemons in the distance, Gladio’s soft snoring as he falls totally asleep…

Ignis falls asleep just as he starts to pick up on a new sound; the nasally whisper of Prompto’s unconscious breathing.

Ignis catalogues that sound with a sleepy smile and drifts away.

Ignis startles awake in the deepest part of the night when the bed lurches. His eyes snap open, adjusting to the darkness, and he knows Gladio will be awake on the other side of the mattress immediately.

It takes just a second to realise what’s wrong.

Noctis pants, sitting up in bed, obviously having jerked himself out of a nightmare.

Ignis is about to twist, reach for him, but Prompto’s sleepy voice breaks the silence first;

“Noct,” he drawls, “you okay?”

“Bad dream,” Noctis whispers, audibly congested with sleepy tears.

“You wanna a cuddle, Noct? Would that help?” Prompto shifts in the bed, no doubt touching the Prince.

“Please?” Noctis whispers, sinking back down with Prompto’s help.

“Everything’s okay,” Prompto assures quietly, the pair of them entangling in the blankets. “Everything’s okay, can have all the cuddles in the world…”

Noctis gives a breathless snort, amused, and curls tighter against Prompto.

“Thanks Prom,” Noctis whispers.

“Anything for you,” Prompto promises fondly.

Ignis can’t blame Prompto for his fierce affectionate loyalty. Noctis wanted to rescue him even when Gladio and Ignis were unsure. Noctis could feel the soul in him and Noctis was the one who purified him and made him theirs. Ignis has his own reasons for loving his Prince but he can’t fault Prompto his. They’re perfectly legitimate.

Ignis smiles tiredly, listening to the boys settle back down. Prompto’s a kind soul and Noctis is responding to him so whole heartedly. He’ll need to look out for Prompto if only to keep Noctis happy.

* * *

Over the next few months Prompto falls into step with the party.

He isn’t much use with a sword but Ignis purchases him a Calamity and a Mythril Pistol and things fall into place almost instantly. Prompto is no swordsman but he has a wicked aim and a soldier’s hesitation which is to say; exactly _none_. He has some understanding of how to fight against magic, how to disarm opponents with swords, which helps him grapple with the basics of their team technique but it takes a while before they really start gelling.

He and Noctis hit their stride soonest. Prompto and Noctis have a similar build and they become quite adept at covering each other’s blind spots which leads to the development of some magnificent maneuvers.

Ignis worries Prompto will become leery the first time they’re locked in combat with MTs but Ignis could not be more wrong. Prompto is _ruthless_. Wildlife, daemons, he lets them lead but MTs? Prompto instinctively knows the weak spots of every unit and he bites through his old brethren systematically. A bannerman gets Ignis pinned one day and only then does Prompto demonstrate an intense emotion. He’s crosses the divide, climbs on the bannerman, blows a round through the MTs neck and then unloads three more into its brains. He’s still on top of it when it slams against the earth. Ignis is taken aback by the flourish of violence but Prompto looks at him with biggest eyes and frets; “Are you okay, Iggy?”

In other ways they establish a strong routine too.

Prompto and Noctis sleep in the middle when they camp.

Prompto sits in the passenger seat when Ignis drives.

Prompto accompanies Gladio on his morning run.

Prompto is one of them. Prompto is part of their party. Soon enough Ignis can’t imagine being on the road without him. Ignis learns Prompto’s favourite meals, Ignis helps get Prompto a cell phone so he can play King’s Knight with Noctis and be found if they’re ever separated, Prompto has his own little stash of clothes in the trunk, Prompto has _his_ deodorant…

Prompto even has a camera. It was something of an impulse buy but the blonde evidently loves it and every night since its purchase he has dutifully presented Noctis with the day’s photos.

Honestly Ignis can go long days without even registering Prompto, their Prompto, was ever an MT unit. Prompto has a barcode, sure, but Gladio bought him a wristband to cover it because it obviously made him uncomfortable. It doesn’t make much difference when Prompto’s barcode is visible anyway. Prompto tends to obscure it but Noctis is very keen on grabbing his wrist and blowing a raspberry against the offending skin. Prompto loves that. He especially loves when it’s late and Noctis noses under the wristband to kiss his barcode. Ignis has noticed _that_ , certainly.

Prompto fits a beautiful niche in their dynamic. He’s vivacious and optimistic. Gentle enough to soothe even a riled Gladio but cheeky enough to make a sulking Noctis smile. Ignis would cut off actual limbs to protect Prompto.

When they meet Ardyn in Lestallum it’s no secret that Ignis is suspicious. A strange man with too many answers and a willingness to ‘ _assist_ ’ them for seemingly no reason? Dangerous. Especially when he makes it evident he knows exactly who Noctis really is.

Gladio evidently doesn’t like their guest at all. When Ardyn offers to take them to the Archean the decision to accept his help is tense. When Noctis makes a joke about riding with Ardyn in his vintage red convertible Ardyn barely gets a chance to reply before Gladio grabs the Prince’s arm.

“Very funny,” Gladio grumbles warningly.

Ardyn snorts over them. “Seems your friends would miss your company too dearly.”

Noctis hums, glancing between Ardyn and Gladio, and let’s his Shield tug him back towards the safety of the Regalia.

Ignis knows something is going on, that much is evident, but he can’t shake the feeling there’s a _supernatural_ element at play too. Noctis, consciously or not, is rarely interested in mundane human beings. Noctis might not like or trust Ardyn but some part of him is interested, sees something Ignis and Gladio can’t perceive, and that’s worrying.

Ignis exchanges a pointed glance with Gladio in the Regalia as they pull out of Lestallum and Gladio nods almost imperceptibly. They need to keep the boys safe. This guy is trouble.

When they pull into the caravan for the night Ignis sits Noctis next to him at the plastic table outside the caravan and very casually puts his hand on Noctis’ knee to hold him back. He wants Noctis to have to physically move him before he can get any closer to Ardyn.

Prompto, who is cautious, has sat on the concrete by Gladio’s feet. He’s scrolling through his photos when Ardyn seems to turn on him with interest.

“What did you say your name was again, lad?”

“Argentum, Prompto Argentum.” Prompto murmurs, eyes flickering between Ardyn as the camera with some visible discomfort.

“Very Lucian name,” Ardyn nods, slouching back in his seat. “Oddly Niff like appearance, however. Rare to see hair that blonde on this continent.”

Prompto pales, subtly tensing, but before he can stumble through a reply Gladio leans into his knees in the seat and reaches down to wrap a meaty arm defensively around Prompto’s collarbone. Prompto quietens, eyes darting to Gladio.

“Sounds like you stare too much,” Gladio rumbles, the thinnest veneer of nonchalance.

“Apologies, that does sound awfully rude,” Ardyn agrees. “Change of subject perhaps? What do you hunt with, Prompto? I can’t imagine you with a hulking broadsword.”

Prompto swallows.

This line of questioning is very pointed.

“Well…” Prompto curls one hand tentatively around Gladio’s wrist, holding the thick arm against himself. “I prefer firearms. I’m a better aim than anything else.”

“A very valuable skill,” Ardyn encourages. “Is a Mythril pistol much different to your standard issue Niff handgun?”

Prompto shifts uncomfortably.

“If you want to ask something,” Noctis snaps at Ardyn fearlessly, “just ask it. All this foreplay’s getting dull.”

“Oh Highness,” Ardyn dismisses playfully, “what’s the point of asking questions we all know the answers to? I’m merely enjoying the novelty of it.”

“Does this mean I’m entitled to answers to the probing questions I have for _you?_ ” Noctis presses.

“I don’t expect anything, Highness, and neither should you.”

Noctis frowns, more like a displeased monarch than an irritated teenager, and Ignis is perplexed by the strange energy he can feel wafting, almost tangible, between his Prince and this odd man.

* * *

Their time at the Disc is a literal shit show. When Ardyn reveals himself as Ardyn Izunia, Imperial Chancellor, Ignis wishes he could say he was surprised but he’s frankly not. _Fucking Niff_.

Ignis is hesitant to board the airship but they’re not safe in the crater. Noctis makes the decision for him, calling rank, and when they board the ship Ardyn leaves them to their own devices smugly.

“Fucking Niff,” Gladio rumbles, slamming the side of his fist against the frame of the ship.

“Agreed,” Ignis murmurs, eyes carefully steeled on the MTs keeping watch over them.

“Prom?” Noctis murmurs. “Prompto _breathe_.”

Ignis and Gladio twist, drawn by the words, and find Noctis wrapping his arm around Prompto’s shoulders.

Prompto sinks, breathing short and fast, and Noctis follows him down to sit them both against the cargo hold wall.

“Prom breathe,” Noctis urges, curling up around him. “It’s okay.”

“He’s the Ch-chancellor.” Prompto heaves. “What if t-they take me b-back?”

“No one’s taking you anywhere, darling,” Ignis promises, pulling off his blazer and crouching before Noctis and Prompto to tuck it around the hyperventilating blonde with his Prince’s help.

“You’re staying with us,” Noctis wraps Prompto tight, nose in the blonde’s hair.

“B-but what i-if--?” Prompto is choked, panicked.

“They’ll have to go through me first,” Noctis whispers against Prompto’s temple.

“And me,” Ignis promises, squeezing Prompto’s knee.

“Make that three of us,” Gladio murmurs, coming up the rear to loom over them. “I don’t care who that fucker is, Prom, he’s just heading the right way for a cracked skull. That’s as close as anyone’s getting.”

Prompto coils into Noctis, making himself smaller, and tries to steady his panting.

“What photos did you take today?” Noctis nudges. “I bet you got some pretty cool ones in the crater.”

“It was a crisis s-situation, Noct,” Prompto snorts weakly. “I d-didn’t take ph-photos.”

“Yes, you did,” Ignis snorts.

“Knew it,” Noctis laughs. “Come on then, show me?”

Prompto grabs his camera and he and Noctis spend several long moments going through each image. Its work to get Prompto to relax. His laughter is stilted and anxious but Noctis persists diligently and, eventually, Prompto’s breathing seems to steady.

* * *

To Ignis’ cautious relief Ardyn makes the ludicrous decision not to bring them to the Emperor in chains. He defies Imperial command and lets them down, without the Regalia, at Wiz’s Chocobo Outpost.

It’s very weird but Ignis can’t say he’s not relieved. They didn’t have many options cramped in that airship. They’re strong but against an army of MTs? In a ship they don’t know how to pilot? It could’ve turned out badly.

Prompto seems a little mystified his nightmare didn’t come true and the scrape with it has obviously shaken him.

Ignis is going to have to work to soothe the boys.

Before Prompto joined the party, when it was just the three of them, Ignis would’ve spent a good few hours kissing every inch of Noctis’ body and rubbing down Gladio’s tense muscles but they have stuck to stolen kisses and passing touches since Prompto arrived. Privacy is hard to come by on the road and they don’t want to make Prompto uncomfortable.

So understandably he’s a little surprised when he walks into the caravan and finds Prompto under Noctis. Ignis freezes. Noctis is sprawled over Prompto on the lumpy queen mattress. Noctis is kissing him hard and Prompto, fingers tangled in the Prince’s hair, seems to loathe the idea that Noctis ever stop.

Ignis makes a motion to step back, to sneak away, but Noctis catches the sound of his boots on the linoleum and whips his head up.

Ignis feels very much like a deer caught in some headlights.

Noctis blushes scarlet but underneath him Prompto pales.

“I-I’m sorry,” Prompto blurts out suddenly.

Ignis frowns and Noctis’ attention darts back down to the blonde.

“Why’re you sorry?” Noctis chokes.

“I-I know that…” Prompto flusters. “I know that you, Gladdy and Iggy are like that but I just…”

Ignis feels a rush of comprehension.

Oh, so…

Apparently he, Gladio and Noctis were not as subtle as he had hoped.

Noctis looks increasingly mortified. Ignis can almost hear the thoughts: does this count as cheating on his two loving retainers? Prompto knows he’s been making out with his retainers? Prompto still wanted a kiss? Does this make Noctis _a slut?_

“It’s alright Prompto,” Ignis placates, trying to soothe them both in one smooth motion. “Why don’t you let me get Gladio? Perhaps he and I can join you?”

Noctis looks at Ignis, wide eyed, like Yule just came all at once. Like, is that even allowed?

Prompto blushes this time, scarlet in seconds, and moves his mouth stupidly at Ignis.

“Would that be okay…?” Prompto whispers.

“I think, after the stressful few days we’ve had, we’d all enjoy it.” Ignis shrugs, warmly permissive. He’s trying to pass this off as a natural progression, not a massive fucking step, not a life changing decision to enfold Prompto into their illicit love affair. He’s not sure how convincing he is but so long as he doesn’t break both the smaller boys…

“Let me get Gladio,” Ignis repeats, stepping back out of the caravan.

Noctis watches him go like he’s about to crack into a million frazzled pieces. Ignis just hopes some of those pieces are excited.

“Gladio,” Ignis grunts, grasping Gladio’s shoulder and startling him out of his book. “Need you, _now._ ”

“Everything okay?” Gladio asks but he’s already standing up.

“ _Foursome_.” Ignis answers, cautious of how much he can say outside, worried Noctis might be eavesdropping, but also wanting to give Gladio some concept of what he’s walking into.

“N-now?” Gladio hisses.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ignis flusters.

“I thought we had another month before, ya know…” Gladio gestures vaguely. “They want to _now?_ ”

“You knew--?” Ignis groans and swats Gladio around the back of the head. “For the record? It was my idea.”

“ _Your idea?_ ” Gladio whispers frantically. “How did you get _there?_ ”

“It seemed like the right thing to say at the time,” Ignis defends, pinching the bridge of his nose in mortification. Okay, so maybe he and Gladio are both to blame. They’re the oldest. They’re supposed to make sure these things happen in a safe, comfortable, fashion because they were always inevitably going to happen.

“Okay, okay…” Gladio gathers himself. “Have we got—?”

“Yeah, of course,” Ignis nods. He wouldn’t let them leave Insomnia without a life supply of condoms. He didn’t expect they’d need enough for _four_ but—

“Okay,” Gladio takes a deep breath, smacking Ignis’ shoulders. “Show time.”

Ignis takes his own deep breath and follows Gladio back into the caravan. He is calm, he is sexy, this is fine.

He thought he’d have a little more time to adjust to the idea of Noctis _and_ Prompto in his arms but evidently not. God, he’s been blue balled since they found Prompto. He just hopes his cock is up to tonight’s performance.

Prompto and Noctis are sitting on the end of the bed, looking electrified but also incredibly nervous. Gladio laughs warmly and sits on Noctis’ other side, throwing an arm around the Prince’s middle.

“You start without us, Princess?”

“It just sort of happened…?” Noctis admits sheepishly.

“You two have been making goo-goo eyes for weeks. I’m not surprised.” Gladio chuckles casually.

“I started it,” Prompto groans, cupping his cheeks like he’s giving a full confession to a Crownsguard. “Just, after everything, I got so scared of ever leaving you guys and I badgered Noct and—”

“You didn’t badger me,” Noctis insists. “I wanted to kiss you. I _still_ want to kiss you.”

“Frankly,” Ignis takes a seat on Prompto’s other side. “I’d like to do some kissing too. Prompto, did you know I have been dying to pull you into my arms?”

Prompto blushes, twisting a little to face Ignis better in his new position.

“Really?” Prompto murmurs.

“May I?” Ignis asks, mimicking Gladio’s motion by sliding his arm around Prompto’s waist and pressing his hand against the blonde’s navel.

Prompto nods weakly, already trembling.

Ignis cups Prompto’s cheek, schools himself, and drawing the blonde into his chest presses his mouth against the blonde’s. Prompto tenses, just for a second, but as Ignis works their lips together Prompto melts like ice cream, unfurling in his grip…

Ignis pulls back, gently, so gently, and a quick glance assures him Gladio and Noctis are still watching. Gladio has wrapped both arms around Noctis and is nibbling the Prince’s elfin ear in such a skilful way Noctis is struggling to keep his eyes open.

Prompto blinks up at Ignis, gooey, and Ignis smiles.

“Even sweeter than I guessed,” Ignis teases, nipping the tip of Prompto’s nose.

Prompto’s laugh seems to surprise even him.

“Comere sugar,” Gladio joins in the play. “Got some for me?”

“Yeah,” Prompto chirps with a building enthusiasm.

Prompto feels so soft and pliable in Ignis’ arms but watching him lean into Noctis lap to kiss Gladio over the Prince’s shoulder Ignis can really appreciate how sinful Prompto looks getting ravaged. Gladio kisses him firmly but not roughly. Gladio’s very good and those sweeping, desperately romantic, gestures when he wants to be. He reads enough romance novels to know all the tricks.

Prompto slumps back, right back into Ignis’ grasp, and Gladio looks wolfish.

“Someone better touch me, right now, or I’m gonna _die_.” Noctis declares dramatically.

Ignis can’t blame him, even if he does snort, because honestly after several months of cold turkey it feels like that. Especially with a beautiful new blonde fixture in their bed.

“Lie down,” Gladio encourages, “I wanna watch you two make out all sloppy.”

“Oh my god, _yes_.” Noctis purrs, climbing up the bed.

Prompto doesn’t need any encouragement. He slumps onto the pillows and gathers Noctis against himself like a limpet. Ignis is still crawling up to join them and Noctis and Prompto are already tangled. Prompto’s hand cards through Noctis’ hair, Noctis’ tongue curls in Prompto’s willing mouth….

It’s going to be a long, long, night…

Ignis can usually hold his own pretty well. Gladio and Noctis are both viciously attractive, crafted by angels, but Ignis isn’t sure how he’s going to juggle a literal Adonis, an elfin beauty _and_ a fucking wood nymph… He is sorely outnumbered.

Ignis watches for a moment, letting the boys kiss, taking in the way Gladio’s hand stroke’s Noctis’ bare stomach but then he can’t resist any longer. He sinks down, nibbling Prompto’s ear while the blonde takes the Prince’s tongue into his mouth and the way Prompto squirms is delightful.

Ignis glances to Gladio and they exchange a strategic look, an understanding. Obviously Noctis and Prompto aren’t in any hurry to move events along being so delighted with each other but that’s why they have Ignis and Gladio.

Moving slowly Ignis and Gladio find increasingly ingenious ways to strip Prompto and Noctis without pulling the boys away from each other. Noctis complains periodically but he’s also utterly thrilled with every new patch of skin they expose on Prompto’s pliant body. Ignis has barely got Prompto’s shirt off before the Prince is nipping and sucking the blonde’s rosy nipples.

“Oh…” Prompto trills, squirming under Noctis’ mouth.

Ignis groans. His pants are getting tighter with every millimetre of skin he works free for Noctis’ greedy hands. It’s also been some time since he got to see his gorgeous Prince in such a state of undress and that’s doing equally wild things to his brain. Gladio’s sat up to pull Noctis’ boots off and, spurred by Prompto’s crooning, Ignis starts unbuckling Prompto’s pants while Noctis hips bump eagerly against the back of his hand.

Prompto toes off his shoes in time with Ignis and, pants undone, Ignis pulls Prompto’s jeans and boxers down his slender legs to toss them off the edge of the bed. Ignis tries to settle back into his groove against Prompto’s back but Noctis has already grabbed a handful of pert blonde ass for himself. The boys kiss, Noctis squeezes Prompto’s ass, and running his fingers between the spread globes—

Prompto makes a noise, shuddery and high, as Ignis rubs at his hole.

“How do you want to do this?” Gladio rumbles at Ignis.

“We should prep them.” Ignis decides, pressing at Prompto’s hole to hear him moan.

“Sounds perfect,” Gladio growls, grinding into Noctis’ ass.

“I want Prom first.” Noctis declares, pulling away from his sloppy kiss session while Prompto moves to suck on his jaw.

“Understood,” Ignis nods, flicking his wrist to get the lube from the armiger and passing the spare bottle to Gladio. They’re going to need to invest so much in lubricant after this.

Ignis is starting to wonder if Noctis and Prompto are ever going to stop kissing. It seems less and less likely given how hard and hot they are tangled up like this. Noctis has always loved kissing and, evidently, Prompto has the patience and the eagerness to bear up under his obsessive kissing. Ignis always loves it but there’s always so much to do otherwise and Gladio always gets too wanton to maintain the level of _just_ kissing.

Noctis groans, lips parted, as Gladio doubtlessly starts fingering him. Noctis loves Gladiio’s thick fingers in his hole too, for the record. Ignis reaches deep but Gladio _stretches_.

Ignis kisses the back of Prompto’s shoulder, kissing and sucking along the back of his neck, and Prompto is already beyond butter. He’s skipped fluid into gaseous states of being. He’s all a fluttering giggle amassed.

Ignis’ fingers circle Prompto’s hole, just teasing, and Prompto is not used to this but he does start to relax into the unfamiliar touches. He’s cradled between people who adore him. He must know he’s safe. And, just as expected, as Noctis starts to moan in earnest from the thrusting of Gladio’s full fingers Prompto pushes back into Ignis’ hand with a gentle curiosity and desire.

 _Gotcha_.

Ignis pushes in, slippery, sliding the digit as deep as he’s able before Prompto hiccups and clamps down. Prompto seems to want to say something but Noctis’ kisses distract him and it can’t be that serious given he doesn’t seem to be in pain. Ignis nuzzles his hair, eases back just a fraction, and slides his finger all the way in…

Prompto groans, deep and kind of confused by the sensation, but his body doesn’t clam up this time. Honestly with Gladio and Ignis prepping them it just takes a little prompting to get Noctis and Prompto to grind into each other and the rut of their hips releases some of the pressure. At little pleasure makes the discomfort easier to handle, Ignis remembers learning that the hard way in high school; he had some dumb fuck buddies.

Prompto ruts his hips into Noctis and, slowly, steadily, Ignis slips two, three, fingers into him. Prompto’s body, while inexperienced, responds beautifully to the attention. Prompto can’t seem to decide how he feels but he doesn’t ask any of them to stop.

Still…

“You alright, darling?” Ignis whispers into the shell of his ear, knuckles deep inside him.

“Aaah…” Prompto catches his breath, “yeah…? It’s a lot….”

“We’ll take care of you,” Gladio assures, and ignis can tell he’s got his cock out and is grinding bare against Noctis.

Noctis however is twisting from pleasantly aroused to frustratingly teased.

“Prom?” He gasps, voice warbling somewhere between impatient and earnest. “Can I—? Please?”

“Oh god, yeah…” Prompto nods dumbly, rubbing their noses, his hole clenching around Ignis’ fingers. 

Gladio and Ignis ease back because, frankly, this might be a sight for the ages.

Noctis, for all his legendary laziness, wastes very little time arranging Prompto’s knees over his shoulders.

“Maybe you—” Ignis chuckles, trying to dial it down.

“Shut up Ignis.” Noctis huffs, puffing a strand of luscious hair out of his face.

“Easy Love,” Ignis pleads, “easy…”

Prompto reaches for Noctis, whining silkily, and Noctis purrs down to kiss him like they’re both butter. He contorts Prompto in the process, lining up, and Prompto throws his head back with a fumbling sound as the head of Noctis’ cock breeches him.

Ignis forgets how to breathe.

He always loves this. He loves watching Gladio fuck Noctis. He loves watching Noctis fuck with Gladio. Prompto is equally beautiful and watching Noctis pop his cherry is….

Ignis wheezes, heart hammering as his body fights to take in new air.

Gladio slinks around the bed as Noctis starts easing inch after amazing inch into Prompto.

“God, fuck, it’s _hot_ —” Prompto hiccups, stuffing the back of his hand against his lips.

Noctis bats his hand away and pins it by his head as he grinds another inch in, bottoming out.

Ignis feels the sound Prompto makes, the moan, in his gut.

Gladio joins Ignis on the bed, behind him, and Ignis slumps back into his strong chest and arms a little stiffly. He loves Gladio he’s just so aroused and he’s a very visual person. Gladio prefers sound and such, always a romantic, so they both get their wish as the scene unfolds and Prompto proves to be incredibly vocal.

“Fuck…” Gladio moans, hand running down Ignis’ navel to curl around his cock.

On instinct Ignis reaches back to stroke Gladio’s fat cock. “I’m pretty sure this is the orientation video in paradise.” Ignis laughs, breathless.

Gladio squeezes him and Noctis, beautifully patient and wickedly teasing, thrust slowly back into Prompto who unfolds with a litany of sounds each more lurid than the last.

Noctis starts to build a rhythm. Noctis is nothing if not a complete minx, a siren, and Ignis knows Noctis knows exactly how to use his hips to his advantage. Noctis fucks Prompto into the lumpy mattress, relentless and thorough, and Ignis is spellbound. That said, Noctis isn’t getting off easy; Prompto seems to be itching under his skin. Every sound the blonde makes causes Noctis’ eyes to roll back in his beautiful skull. They’re so into it. So into each other. So desperately turned on by fucking each other. It’s a joy to watch with Gladio’s calloused hand stroking his shaft.

Ignis can feel how hard Gladio’s leaking from the slit of his uncut cock. Ignis’ whole hand is slick with precum. Gladio has such a monster dick. Ignis used to be afraid it would rearrange Noctis’ guts too aggressively. Prompto’s even smaller than Noctis. Will Ignis be able to see Gladio moving inside the blonde?

Is that Ignis moaning…?

It’s hard to tell right now.

Noctis growls, voice breaking ever so gently, and surges forward like he’s possessed. Noctis pins both of Prompto’s hands above his head, biting his own lip, and starts pounding into the blonde with all the power of magic.

It rips a sound out of Prompto, long and high and jerky, and Noctis moans brokenly with every new octave reached until Noctis is trembling in his thrusts and—

 _“Ahh!_ ” Noctis cums so hard Ignis can see the fleck of drool slipping down his thick, pouty, lips.

A jerk, a stutter, and Noctis hips still against Prompto.

He pants, hunched over the blonde, and Ignis and Gladio surge up into motion.

Ignis helps ease Noctis back into his arms, coiling the Prince up, kissing his cheekbones….

Gladio lays down beside Prompto’s panting, shaking, sweaty body and runs his hand between the blonde’s legs. He moans, low and deep, as his fingers drag through the cum dribbling out of Prompto.

“Did he…?” Ignis murmurs.

Gladio shakes his head softly, eyes pointed and chocolatey. 

Ignis grins, wicked.

“Then we’re not done yet, are we?” He supposes.

“Nah, not yet,” Gladio smirks back, cupping Prompto’s oversensitive cock.

Prompto moans, hips jerking instinctively, body looking for more…

“Noct, precious,” Ignis hefts him up, “I’m just going to put you down, okay?”

“Hmm….” Noctis is floating, thick in the mind putty of afterglow.

With another hard kiss to Noctis’ pliant lips Ignis sprawls him back on the sheets just looking like the cat who got all the cream in the Kingdom.

Ignis doesn’t think he’s ever lost his clothing so fast.

Gladio doesn’t even bother to finish stripping.

“You think…?” Gladio asks, hopeful.

“Just be gentle,” Ignis suggests, totally trusting Gladio.

Gladio has a monster of a cock but he knows how to use it.

Gladio slides down the bed, kissing and sucking at the meat of Prompto’s inner thighs hungrily. Prompto whines, eyes glazed, half the hard work already done and Gladio sucks a hickey into Prompto’s milky thigh while Ignis arranges himself around the head of the bed.

They flip Prompto with trained, strong, hands.

Gladio arranges a pillow under the unpractised hips, giving Prompto something to grind into and keeping him angled correctly. Gladio then sets about curling his thumb in Prompto’s wet hole and tugging just so.

Prompto is already moaning under the attention as Ignis lifts his head up, petting his hair.

“You alright, darling?” Ignis checks, kissing his sweaty forehead.

“Can I stretch anymore…?” Prompto blinks dazedly. “I don’t think….”

“Shh,” Ignis pats his cheek, “Gladio’s got this. He’s good at this. Just relax.”

“Gods, Iggy, it feels so good…” Prompto whines. “I just want to _burst_ …”

“Soon sweetheart,” Ignis promises, “for now can you open your mouth?”

Prompto moans, from what who can say? But his lips part wetly as Ignis drags the head of his cock against Prompto’s mouth.

There’s something electric and wrong about filling the mouths of pretty boys with cock.

It’s kind of Ignis’ favourite thing in the entire world.

Prompto is a little uncertain for a second, willing but bashful, but Ignis curls one hand in his hair and nudges him down lower—

Prompto’s mouth is molten hot. All wet muscle and aching jaw. Ignis, again, schools himself to breathe. Prompto comes down as low as he seems to think he can manage and then—

The head of Gladio’s cock chooses that moment to pop into Prompto and the blonde gasps as best he can around Ignis’ cock, so choked, that Ignis gets just a fraction deeper before Prompto starts to splutter and tighten around Gladio’s girth.

Ignis shushes him, Gladio strokes his hips, and Ignis lets Prompto pull back a little but the blonde, absolute angel, refuses to let Ignis’ cock fall out of his mouth as he regains his composure. He moans, tongue vibrating under Ignis’ cock, and screws his eyes shut as Gladio sinks deeper.

Prompto’s too full to bite and too fucked out to squirm much but he’s got the tension of hips that haven’t orgasmed yet and that keeps him keen.

Ignis and Gladio have done this plenty of times. Prompto is a different waif but he’s just as determined and he adjusts quickly enough to getting fucked from both ends even if he is a little less dignified about the whole affair than Noctis.

Prompto takes Ignis just a fraction too deep almost every thrust, throat contracting, but he keeps trying and Ignis just wants to fuck his face hard.

Gladio has a steady rhythm and, frankly, he controls the pace of the entire operation right now because he’s got more control over Prompto’s body than Ignis does.

Then Gladio starts to speed up, hand sliding under Prompto to coil around his cute cock, and Prompto starts to writhe somehow just as vocal even stuffed _full_.

Ignis isn’t complaining. Prompto’s tongue, his lips, his throat… it all flutters as Prompto fluctuates between gasping, moaning, choking and sucking _hard_. Ignis is barely able to contain himself but Prompto seems to be losing brain cells, melting them out his ears, and Ignis is so close he says ‘ _screw it_ ’ and starts bobbing Prompto’s head in his lap with the hand curled in those blonde locks.

Prompto seems to like it.

Gladio’s grunting in that animal way he does when he’s close, like a beast in heat, and Ignis—

Prompto cums suddenly, like a firecracker, bursting with a wild rush of spasms that start a chain reaction.

Gladio is yanked over the edge, doubtlessly drawn there by Prompto’s clenching ass but Ignis holds on long enough to feel Prompto go boneless and pliant before he floods the blonde’s mouth with his cum.

Well _fuck_ …

* * *

In the morning you would think Prompto and Noctis hadn’t changed at all. They’re still tangled up in each other, perfectly serene and honey sweet, but Ignis can’t get the image of them fucking like rabbits out of his head.

Gladio watches them pester the chocobos, vigilant even if he appears lazy, and Ignis recognises the fondness in his eyes.

Ignis saunters out of the camper, sated from their antics yesterday, and somehow deeply satisfied. He knows he should be worried. This could turn out for the worst. Three people is complicated enough. However will they manage four?

Then again he can’t imagine Prompto ever causing a fuss because, regardless of the circumstances of his creation or arrival, Prompto belongs here. Prompto is one of them. Prompto needs to be here. He just slots in.

They’ve got it bad, all of them.


End file.
